


A Bit of a Breakup

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Sugar Baby AU [3]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Rhys isn't answering his phone.





	A Bit of a Breakup

**Author's Note:**

> Another sugar daddy AU prompt! :)

Rhys almost always answered his texts.

The kid was hooked to his phone like it was an IV constantly feeding him as many photos and messages as he tapped out himself.  Even on the fanciest of dates to the most expensive restaurants in the city, with Jack in those nice clothes Rhys always badgered him to wear, Rhys couldn’t go five minutes without pulling out his phone and snapping pictures of the next course the waiter had brought to their table.

So when Rhys hadn’t answer Jack’s lunch-time text by the time the older man got off work, alarm bells had started to ring in his ears.

At first, he’d thought maybe the kid’s phone had just run out of battery, or maybe for some reason or another he’d put the damn thing on vibrate instead of the annoyingly catchy techno text-tone that usually jingled out of his phone and interrupted whatever romantic moment Jack had painstakingly set up this time. It was only when he called Rhys did he realize that at least the former was unlikely, as he kept getting Rhys’ voicemail. So the kid’s phone was  _on_ , he just wasn’t picking up for whatever reason.

And the fact that Jack didn’t  _know_  the reason had him almost immediately on edge.

* * *

Thirty missed calls and an uncountable number of all-caps texts later, and just as Jack planned to contact the cops the dial tone cut off with a muffled click, followed by a meek little:

“Jack?”

“Holy hell, kiddo.” Jack couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice, snapping perhaps a little too harshly at Rhys. He cradled his face in his hands, trying to breath evenly as relief dropped like a rock through his body.

“I—I know, I should’ve—“

“Kiddo, you tell me where you are and what’s going on  _right now_.” Jack didn’t want to hear anything besides his boyfriend’s location and current situation. Rhys could tell him the details after he’d chewed him out in person.

He heard Rhys huffing anxiously over the line, starting and stopping a few times before managing to get a coherent sentence out.  

“Sorry, I…well…okay, it’s kind of funny, actually, so don’t be mad—“

“Rhys,” Jack growled through his teeth. “Spit. It.  _Out_.”

A deep, shaky sigh buzzed over the phone.

“So I. I guess I’m at the hospital?”

* * *

Jack hadn’t bothered to hear Rhys out over the phone, repeating over and over that he was heading over now whether Rhys liked it or not, until the young man gave in with a terse “fine”and hung up on him. The kid didn’t sound particularly hurt or shaken, not that it did much to soothe Jack’s nerves. He nearly ran a red light on his way to the hospital, palms sweaty and nervous against the steering wheel the whole time before he finally pulled into the parking building.

After an antsy couple of minutes tapping his knuckles against the front desk as the attendant clicked away at her computer until she came up with Rhys’ status and current room. He didn’t bother waiting around for any more information, taking off down the hallway.

Jack didn’t bother knocking when he got to the door with the appropriate number, wrenching it open with sweating fingers.

His eyes immediately zeroed in on Rhys, taking full stock of the boy’s state as he swept over. Rhys’ mouth opened in surprise a Jack’s sudden entrance as he started to prop himself up, but Jack’s eyes had already left Rhys’ face to focus on his right leg. It poked out from underneath the thin hospital sheets, sheathed in a bright blue from the ball of his foot all the way up to his calf.

“J-Jack, hold on—“ Rhys held up his hands defensively as Jack came to a halt at his bedside, but the older man’s furious concern had been jammed into overdrive at the sight of his boyfriend’s injury.

“What the hell?” Jack cried, far too loud for a quiet hospital setting as he pointed to where Rhys’ toes wiggled helplessly from inside the cast. “Did you get hit by a car or something?”

“Uh…not exactly…” Rhys shifted awkwardly in the bed, knees rubbing together. He kept his eyes on the blankets covering his lap, fingers fidgeting with the thin fabric.

Jack placed his hands on his hips, expectant. He watched Rhys bite the inside of his cheek, fingers tucking loose hair behind his ear as if the little gestures could help him work up the courage to explain.

“So…you remember those heels I bought the other day?”

“Yeah?”

Jack knew the exact pair Rhys was talking about, thanks to an argument they’d had about the purchase when Rhys had brought them home in the first place. You see, Jack  _liked_  when his boyfriend wore heels—they helped firm up his butt and show off those long, slender legs that had captured Jack’s attention in the first place—but this pair had been seriously high. More like weapons of torture than fashionable footwear, in Jack’s opinion. And Rhys had been planning to wear them  _out_ and about, not just to fancy dinners, prompting Jack to put his foot down on the matter. Something Rhys hadn’t exactly taken well.

But they’d made up after only a few hours of stewing mad at each other—Jack had ordered in Rhys’ favorite takeout, and Rhys had even blown him on the couch later when evening television had grown boring. He’d even promised not to wear the shoes out as he’d planned, instead saving them for a special occasion. They’ resolved the problem. So why was Rhys…?

Jack’s eyes narrowed at the cast, then at Rhys’ downturned, sheepish expression.

“ _Oh_.” Tight, angry heat clenched in Jack’s chest. “You little idiot. You  _didn’t_.”

The boy finally lifted his eyes to look at him, sensing the building frustration.

“L-Look, you just don’t get fashion, okay? Sacrifices have to be made!”

“Kiddo, I hate to break it to you, but you kind of  _need_ your ankles, okay?”

“It’s just a little break, the doctor said it’ll heal up in only a few weeks!” Rhys huffed, crossing his arms tightly around his chest as he turned to stare out the window like he were angry at it instead of Jack. “You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it, you know.”

“Big deal? Big  _deal_?” Jack’s voice raised, uncaring of the fact that it would probably echo all the way down the corridor. “I spent the last couple hours in a frikkin’  _panic_  wondering about what happened to you, kiddo, only to find out you broke your god-damn ankle doing something I told you not to? I think that’s a bit of a big deal!”

Rhys said nothing, eyes falling back to his folded hands. Jack caught the glimmer of something wet in his eyes, confirmed by a sad little sniffle. The older man sighed, anger whistling out through his teeth as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to calm down.

“Look…” He managed after a moment’s steady breathing. “I just worry when you get hurt. Okay?”

“…Okay.” Rhys whispered after his own steadying pause, his shoulder sagging in a sigh.

“For what it’s worth…” Rhys tipped his head up, trying to smile. “I…I looked pretty good in those heels until I tripped down the stairs.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh, breaking his tension slightly as he pulled his hand away from his face.

“Yeah…bet you did, Rhysie. Bet you did.”

Jack pulled up a chair to the bedside, sitting next to his boyfriend and sliding their hands together. Rhys squeezed his fingers softly, delicate touch calming Jack down considerably from the height of his earlier worry.

“So…You wanna be the first one to sign my cast?” Rhys asked, pointing down towards his leg. Jack snorted at the innocent request, leaning in to carefully kiss his boyfriend’s cheek, before producing a work pen from inside his blazer pocket.

“I got you covered, baby.”


End file.
